


Flicker

by I Frostmere (Frostmere71)



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 06:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostmere71/pseuds/I%20Frostmere
Summary: Character Dev WIP





	Flicker

Her ashen skin was ruddy in the firelight, it's embers gave her red and orange flecked hair a vibrant life. It seemed to crackle in response to the hunger and heat of the fire. She danced moving sinuously like a living flame, eyes alight with mischief. Darting backwards and forwards chasing every movement. They looked with an open wonder, hinting at a hunger that sang of consuming every last sight.

The world to her was all curiosity, every little thing wonder, new, exciting, distracting. Her light clothes danced and swirled around her. What made the sight truly curious was the absolute absence of music. Every eye in the room looked at this strange woman, her tail swished and the firelight reflected from her obsidian horns. She knew she had the attention of everyone in the room and revelled in it consuming the attention, devouring it. To her it didn’t matter why they watched, she knew some thought she was stone cold crazy, some loved her lines and curves, others her sultry voice. It didn't matter. Then, in an instant she stopped. Her eyes transfixed on the door. Three farmers walked in, the one in the back, old with hair like winter snow. She moved each step measured and paced, stepping to her own internal beat. Never before had she seen such a sight. She looked on in wonder her hand slowly extending as she stepped towards him. 

His eyes went wide as her fingers entwined in his hair.

“It is warm, and wet?” She uttered with wonder. 

“Uh, um, It's raining outside lass.”

“Where did you get it? How do you have hair like warm snow?”

The old man laughed in spite of himself. “I don't know where your from lass, some say I've had too many thoughts and they took the colour from me hair with them when I let them out.”

She tilted her head to the side slightly, a distant look in her eye. Without a sound she danced wordlessly to the bar, the bartender placed small clay cups in front of her. She downed one without pause and waved her hand over the other. the colourless liquid rose out of the cup and began to dance over the bar following her gestures. You could almost hear the music as she wove her hand flicking her fingers the fluid shimmered from shape to shape, moving against all probability, not a single drop falling to the bar. Then with a sharp flick it erupted into flame evaporating completely away in an instant. She laughed, loud enough to carry through the taproom. Still it was a soft musical sound, but there was something else underneath the music of her laughter. True it was warm and melodic, yet it carried a sound just under the surface that put one in mind of a fire cracking though dry wood, dancing over logs, smouldering deep in glowing coals.


End file.
